


Pray For Me

by TravellingVisitor



Category: Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda) - Fandom, Linked Universe - Fandom, LinkedUniverse - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Blood, Burns, Candle Wax Burns, Character Death, How Do I Tag, Hurt No Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm so sorry, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Insomnia, Practically self harm, Prayer, Refusal of help, Self-Sacrifice, Seriously guys don't read this if you can't handle this stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-16 03:16:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21500977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TravellingVisitor/pseuds/TravellingVisitor
Summary: Sky can't stop thinking about Fi, about how weak she feels after Wild finally handed her back to him.He would do anything to bring her back.Anything.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	Pray For Me

The dark, swirling vortex of a portal had been long left behind them, the Links all settled around a campfire in Wild's Hyrule. The day was slowly turning into night, beautiful colors lighting up the sky overhead. All was peaceful, at least on the surface.   
Soft sounds of chatter filled the clearing, friendly conversations changing back and forth between all the companions sitting 'round the fire. Warriors was chatting with Time about the difficulties of armor and accessories, Time's expression lifted into an easy smile as he slipped in a few quips here and there. Legend was showing off some of his rings to Four and Twilight, the other two showing off bits and baubles from their own adventures.   
Wild was sitting with Hyrule, showing him the map of his Hyrule- which was certainly getting a little confusing, but at this point in time they were used to it. Hyrule didn't mind the mixups that popped up every now and then.   
Right now Wild was describing a spring that lay nearby through a cave- The Spring of Power, it was called.

Sky was polishing Fi- the Master Sword- a concerned look on his face that was especially apparent in the downwards tilt of his lips. He was talking with Wind, listening to his own stories with the sword, only partially focusing on his fellow hero as well as the other conversations happening around the fire. Her glow… It was so dull. How long had it been?... How long had she been trapped inside?...  
“...- Give the sword strength!!”  
His head jerked up, eyes widening as he looked over at Wind. “Wait, say that again?”  
Wind gave a startled blink in response, tilting his head. "Yeah, my people would pray to help the sword keep its power. I think it worked, even maybe just a little, because you should have _seen_ her power!" He brightened, lips curving into a smile. "She glowed really brightly at times." He stated, innocent to Sky's thoughts as the older hero started to zone out once more.   
The Skyloftian's gaze was drawn back down to the sword, gently touching the flat of her blade.  
 _I can help save you._   
He smiled.

Sky was a very patient person, when he had to be. In his adventure he had to wait for the perfect moments to strike an enemy, to swing his net to catch a vital bug, for Beedle's shop to come his way.   
He could be patient.   
And so, he was.   
He waited hours, eating dinner as if there was nothing going on in his head. He leaned back in his bedroll, the Master Sword set aside with his things, and pretended to sleep.   
More hours passed and the moon slid overhead, lighting the clearing with a dim, shimmering light. It was then when he opened his eyes, the soft pad of footfalls circling around the camp once before settling on top of a fallen tree. It was Wind, by the sound of it.   
He could sneak by the younger hero if he was careful.

With not a sound he slowly slipped out of his bedroll, creeping to the sword he had so lovingly nestled next to his bag. Sky gently lifted her into his arms, hooking the scabbard's strap around his shoulders and nestling her onto his back.   
He would tell Wind that he's going for a walk, but if he didn't come back soon then Wind would raise the alarm. He couldn't have that, not if he wanted to have enough time.   
Drawing in a breath he stealthily walked into the trees in the opposite direction of Wind, glad that he left his chainmail behind, trying to remember everything that he heard Wild say about this 'Spring of Power'. It sounded familiar.   
_Through a cave, it opens up to a path with pillars, and then a lake... The entrance is here somewhere._   
Eyeing the area Sky turns on his heel, thoughtfully rubbing the back of his neck-   
There.   
The rise of a natural stone wall, through the trees.  
With a single glance behind him Sky picked up his pace to the wall, running his fingers along the side. Sky was determined to get in, whatever it took. One hand curling around the strap running along his chest that connected to the scabbard he trotted along the wall in one direction, looking around with wide eyes. Minutes passed and he kept going, continually glancing back and forth in order to make sure he was indeed alone.   
It took him a little bit, but he found what he thought was the entrance.   
With one last glance around he slipped inside, one hand running along the wall while the other clutched at the strap around his chest.

Sky traveled deeper into the cave, squinting a little bit and taking careful steps forwards. He didn't pay close attention to the brick walls in here, just the way forwards, which he found quite quickly. The darkness didn't last long in such a small tunnel, but it was long enough to notice that barely any light was being cast from the Master Sword.   
He had to hurry.   
Slinging her off of his back and holding her in his arms he stumbled back out into the moonlight, barely taking the time to look around and observe this _extremely_ familiar spring. It looked almost exactly like one from his memories... Just less platforms in the water.   
Sky wished there were platforms in this spring as he ran to the edge of the first and clambered off, leaving the scabbard behind and walking to the statue of the goddess pleadingly.   
"Goddess, please... I'm here to make a request, and to beg. I've served as your hero for a long while, I've been loyal, and so has she. So has my people. I beg you now... Please give her strength again, if you can."  
Sky's voice was quiet but it rang through the silence of the spring, the only thing backing his voice being the quiet sloshing of the water around his legs and the chirping of crickets he didn't recognize.   
He took another step closer to the statue, opening his mouth to speak again.   
"Goddess Hylia, you protected my people, raised earth from the Surface to make our home. I will not ask you for much more, and I accept every gift given before, even if it hasn't been given to me directly. Please, Goddess, bring her strength."   
With that he shifted his grip on the sword, one hand gently resting on the blade while the other on the hilt, falling into silence as he prayed.   
He stayed quiet for a long time, the cold creeping up his legs, not noticing when his fingers tightened around the blade.   
His eyes were shut.

Sky sits back on his heels in the water, the cold liquid gently lapping against his chin and jawline as his face tilts up to the sky. His eyes were closed and he held the Master Sword- Fi- tightly in his hands as he prayed for the heavens above.  
Her voice was weak but with every prayer he thought he could hear it just a little more, just a little stronger. Sky shivered softly in the water, sending out small ripples around him, though he didn't dare stop.  
He was doing this for Fi. To save her.   
He didn't even feel it when he gripped the blade tight enough to bleed.  
Red slowly fanned out around him, and still he prayed on.  
Even as her weak voice filtered into his ears the words were indecipherable. He couldn't make out what she was saying, though her voice sounded urgent, and for once worry struck deep inside it.   
This just made him pray ever harder, fearful of her leaving.

It was Hyrule who found him, as the first rays of sunlight broke over the high stone walls of the spring.   
The sight that he was met with struck worry deep into his heart.   
There was blood in the water and Sky was sitting still, almost completely in the water, nearly at the feet of the goddess, not a sound coming from him. With a yell Hyrule launched himself into the water, scared of tripping and drowning but shoving that down as soon as he felt the smooth bottom and how shallow the water was. Pushing through it he ran to Sky, grabbing his shoulders and gasping in relief as the Skyloftian opened his eyes.   
Although, Hyrule's gasp died when he noticed how groggy Sky was.   
It was likely that he hadn't gotten any sleep, and the amount of blood in the water was worrisome.   
"What in the name of the Goddesses...." He breathed, grabbing onto Sky and pulling him up, getting a protesting noise in response as well as a voice cracking with lack of sleep- "What- What are you doing?"  
 _Oh Goddess, he's still bleeding._   
Hyrule had seen his hand, the cold appendage still wrapped tight around the blade. Sky didn't seem to feel it.   
With a pull, he hoisted Sky out of the spring. "We need to go back and check out that hand, Sky. Why..." He shook his head, astounded as he pulled himself out of the water.  
Sky looked confused, and disoriented. His fingers twitched on the blade and he didn't even look down, his unharmed hand brushing over the stones as he stayed on his knees.   
He looked so tired, and confused. On top of this... Did he even feel the cold? His body was shivering... Hyrule bit his lip, gently moving to take the sword and nearly flinching away at the response.   
"No!" Sky yelped, grasping the sword tighter and holding it closer to his chest, having just about yanked it from Hyrule's hands. "She's stronger- At least a little- I need to keep her with me." A fresh rivulet of blood gently trickled down the sword.   
"Okay okay Sky- But we really need to get you back to camp. Come on, come on...." Hyrule leaned down, hooking the scabbard onto himself and reaching down to help Sky to his feet, leaning the Skyloftian on him. "It's going to be fine. Easy.. Easy." With the weight of Sky leaning on him and the other hero not speaking another word Hyrule lead him out of the Spring, and back through the forest.   
Back to camp.

They were met by varying reactions, but most followed the same theme; some were upset, some were concerned, some were downright angry that Sky would put himself in danger like that.   
And yet Sky had no idea what they were talking about, until Legend walked up and pointed at the sword.   
"Why the _fuck_ are you bleeding on the sword, if you're fine?" Legend snapped, arms crossing.   
Sky's face went pale- rather, even more so- as he looked down to see the beautiful blue blade marred by crimson. His jaw worked, quickly letting go of the blade and just holding the hilt with his unharmed hand, staring at the deep cuts lining his palm and the inside of his fingers.   
"Th-That... That wasn't intentional." He murmurs, eyes wide.   
"Intentional or not, you need this checked out, and whatever the hell you were doing.. It needs to stop." The more experienced hero grumped, taking Sky's arm and waving for Hyrule to follow, leading the weak hero to his bedroll and sitting him down beside it.   
"You're fucking soaked," Legend huffed, "And you're freezing. Great Din Sky, what the hell were you thinking?"   
Sky stayed silent, staring at the flesh of his hand as Hyrule's magic healed it.

Sky didn't speak much for half of the day, either staring at his hand or the Master Sword in quiet thought. He was still weak from losing so much blood, and probably a little dazed from the shock of it, so not many in the group opted to bother him. Wind just fussed about him putting a blanket around himself, knowing the most about the effects of cold water and being submerged for a long while.   
Halfway through the day though, he snapped back to normal.   
He became animated again, he set the Master Sword aside, he ate a full lunch and talked easily with the others. Relieved, many of them set aside their worry. Although, due to Sky's weakness from the blood loss, the group had decided not to pack up camp and move just yet.   
At least not today.   
This was a mistake.

Sky's thoughts had never, not once left the Spring or Fi once in the whole day. His mind had been spinning, wondering if Hylia had never answered his prayers, as Fi's light was just as dim now as it had been the day before.   
Sky's plan was set, and he knew what he had to do.   
He remembered seeing people use candles with prayer, plenty of them, and sometimes holding them in their hands. He knew of one hero who carried a candle, he certainly could use that.   
In face, he planned to.   
Once again he waited, hiding his thoughts and plans expertly from the others, chatting with them as if everything was normal and Fi was fine.   
Once again nightfall came.   
Once again, he waited until late in the night before slipping out of his bedroll.   
Eyeing the clearing as he did the night before, he planned out two stops in camp instead of just one.   
First, the Master Sword.   
He strapped her to his back, just like before.   
Then, Hyrule's candle.   
The hero was a light sleeper, he would have to be careful.  
Staying as quiet as he could he crept closer to the sleeping hero, crouching beside his bag. He never looked directly at Hyrule, as they all would easily wake up to the feeling of being watched, but instead Sky looked at the bedroll he laid in.   
Slowly, ever so slowly he opened Hyrule's pack, staying as quiet as he could as he rummaged inside. Hearing Hyrule shift a tiny bit he tensed, grabbing the waxy candle and the bag tied around it for the flint and steel. He stayed frozen for a minute, waiting and watching, before slowly pulling his hand out and closing the pack.   
He was ready to go.   
Making his way through the trees once more, Sky vanished into the shadows of the night.

He was back at the spring, on his feet at the base of the statue of the goddess.   
This time he went as close to the statue as he could, setting the Master Sword down at the feet of the goddess as well as the candle and small pouch. Sky was exhausted, two days without sleep and walking to the spring takes it's toll. His legs gave out underneath him and he knelt, chin deep, in the frigid water. He stared up at the goddess, hands gripping the stone pedestal, blue eyes fixed on her face and staring as the moon ringed her stone head like a halo.  
Closing his eyes he just let himself breathe for a minute or two, seeing the moonbeams dance across his eyelids, before opening them again and heaving himself onto his feet. With shaky fingers he opened up the pouch and unwound it from around the candle, dumping the two stones into his ever-so-slightly trembling hands and striking them together enough so that the candle would light. The warmth hit his face immediately, and he sighed with a gentle relief.   
It would work this time.   
It had to.

With a soft sigh he lifted the candle into his hands, hardly even feeling the waxy surface. Another sigh slid free, taking his right hand off and flexing it- without any gloves on, one could see the twisting scars that covered his palm and arced up his wrist.. his arm... his shoulder. He knew where it led.   
Shaking his head quickly, Sky focused on the burning candle once more. He cast one long look at the Master Sword and its dull glow before slowly kneeling in the water, raising his eyes up to Hylia's unchanging face, and starting to pray once more.   
He stayed there for hours still again, this time speaking out loud to the statue, quietly begging and pleading to it for the goddess to return what strength had been stolen from his friend.  
Sky prayed on, the candle held tight in his fingers as he feverishly begged the goddess under his breath to give strength back to his friend, the friend that was laying quiet in her metal vessel at the statue's feet.  
He couldn't feel it when the candle burned low, hot wax leaving numerous trails over his fingers as the small flame singed the tips of them.

Just as before, he stayed there until the break of day shone over the tops of the walls around the spring.

They found him hours later. He was still staring up at the goddess's face but his shivers were long gone, hands clasped over the dying candle, wax floating in the water and dripping from his hands as the candle burned low, so low the tips of his fingers were singed. He was mouthing what seemed like nonsense mixed with silent pleads, eyes glassy as his lips struggled to even form words.  
They had to pull him out and away from the water, trying to ignore the sudden, weak scream that ripped from his lips as he was torn away from the statue. His skin was freezing.

In minutes after returning to camp they had him wrapped in all the blankets they had, having him turned away from the direction of the fountain but letting him clutch to the Master Sword, wrapped in his sailcloth in the fear that he would accidentally cut himself on the blade.  
Wind was watching him, watching his fellow hero utter small, silent sobs as shivers began to wrack his body, watching Sky whisper to the Master Sword and press his forehead against the hilt.  
"I never should have told him that we would pray to keep the sword at full power." He murmured, eyes wide, full of shock, the sun's light filling only half the clearing as it crawled across the sky. "Never."  
No one replied.   
The group sat in silence for a little longer before Legend and Hyrule shared a glance and stood, Legend pulling in a deep breath. "Hyrule and I are going to tend to his hands... Again."   
The experienced hero wasn't angry anymore. Anger at one instance was deserving enough, but a second... A second was a cause for concern. He stepped closer to the other hero, gently pulling one of Sky's hands off of the master sword and tightening his jaw at the weak noise of protest.   
Feeling his successor sit down beside him, magic at the ready, Legend slowly spread out Sky's fingers and began to work the wax off of his hand.   
Legend's voice was quiet, confusion and a deeply hidden concern laced throughout it as he held Sky's hand tight in both of his own. He continued to slowly, gently peel the wax off and reveal the angry, raw burns underneath, Hyrule's gentle healing touch ghosting over them. "What the in the name of the Dark Realm is making you feel the need to do this?"  
Sky didn't feel a thing.  
Nor did he reply.   
He just let another silent sob shake his shoulders as he kept one hand pressed against the Master Sword's hilt, mouthing more prayers to the goddess as shivers wracked his body.

The heroes didn't try to get him to talk again, just checking on him and bandaging his hands, making sure he ate. Wind stayed the closest to the Skyloftian, constantly with him, chattering to Sky and trying to get a reaction.   
There wasn't ever one.   
The only thing that swarmed Sky's mind was that he was failing, he was too late.   
He was too late to save his friend.   
There had to be another option. 

Throughout the rest of the day he was quiet and unresponsive, accepting the food given slowly and in a bit of a daze. Sky always had at least one hand on the wrapped up Master Sword, the others didn't have the heart to take it from him after the first try. He had just about broke, snatching the sword back from Warriors and clutching it to him. 

They were forbidding him from going to the spring anymore.

Sky wasn't going to let that happen.   
Although he had managed to sleep for a little while during the day, he stayed awake late into the night, watching and waiting. Twi was the one who was on patrol this time, his keen eyes and good senses of hearing and smell making him the best option to guard the distraught hero. And yet, Sky still clung onto the thought of a chance.   
And then, a miracle.   
Or rather, another mistake.  
Twilight left on one of his long, habitual patrols into the forest around their camp.

Sky took this chance immediately, sitting up quickly. He refused to let himself sway like his body wanted him too, aching bones begging him to lay down once more. Exhausted muscles and drooping eyes called similar cries, and he ignored them all.   
The Master Sword was still wrapped in his sailcloth, damaged and bandaged hands clutching to it as he snuck out of the camp and back to the spring. He had to keep praying, for her. For Fi. His long-time companion, another poor soul stuck in this horrible cycle he created. He stumbled into the water, the cold and damp feeling familiar to him now as he waded in deeper.  
"P... Please.. Give her strength again." He whispered, shivers already working their way through him. Sky stumbled closer to the statue, wobbling on his feet right in front of it. He looked up at that face, the face worn down by time and weather, that face he and his people so revered. "She can have mine... Please." He continued to stare up at the unchanging face of the goddess, the divine halo of the moon circling her head and the glimmering canvas of stars being the only other witnesses to his grief. "Please..."

This final time, the whole group had flocked to the spring in dread. It was a few hours to dawn already, and the sky was still dark, but the glow from the statue let them see all they needed to.   
Sky’s sailcloth was floating in the water, just underneath, unwound from the shining blade of the Master Sword, held in the clutch of cold hands.   
The now far stronger glow of the Master Sword illuminated something they would never want to see- and never should have.   
Under the water, one of Sky’s hands was clasped around the hilt, his other arm wrapped around the blade.   
He was on his side, curled into the fetal position, head seemingly rested against the Goddess Statue’s stone base… But he was fully submerged.  
Not even a bubble surfaced.   
His eyes were open, glassy and staring, that gaze seemingly locked onto the Master Sword in his grasp as his hair swayed gently in the water.   
Four clapped one hand over his mouth, turning away in an effort to not see that anymore. A shudder rolled through the group, leaving horror reeling in its wake, as fourteen eyes fixed on the scene in silent disbelief, and two more hesitantly glanced back.   
The stony face of Hylia stared at them, unchanging, emotionless. The glow surrounding her, that holy light, carried no change either, as if the goddess payed no heed for her most ancient hero.   
The Links stayed there, standing on the platform, for quite some time, grieving in silence.


End file.
